Yochai Benkler, Wealth of Networks: How Social Production Transforms Markers and Freedom John Willinsky With the Wealth of Networks, Benkler takes on Adam Smith’s epoch-defining work, first published in 1776, at the very point in history when the economic system that Smith so carefully describes in An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations appears to have finally realized its global destiny, what, with market economies having now taken root around the world. It may seem an odd moment, then, for Benkler to turn the tables on Smith’s vision, that is, to displace nations with networks and transform markets through social production (into nonmarkets, as it turns out). Although Benkler does not anywhere else in his book make such direct use of Smith’s influential book, the Wealth of Networks establishes the economic viability of what is, at many points, much the opposite of what Smith was describing then as a new economic regime and what has subsequently taken on the qualities of natural law. In the process, Benkler takes hold of capitalism’s two dearest concepts, wealth and freedom, and gives them both a second economic life. He identifies project after project which is driven by not by national and personal self-interest – which figured so prominently in Smith’s work, as well as the continuing stream of economic theory following that tradition – but operates instead cooperatively through global, collaborative networks. These networks represent for Benkler a revolution in individual autonomy and democratic action, given how they freely distribute the means of participation to others, and those two concepts have a certain resonance with other events from 1776. Yet if Benkler’s book plays off of the Wealth of Nations, concept by concept, it still resembles Smith’s book in form. Both books describe new developments by identifying the logic and economic benefits in each case. Both give name and shape to what are already growing segments of the economy; both deploy prime instances, like the pin factory and open source software, leading to improvements in quality and increases in productivity and creative application. By rendering these developments sensible and visibly part of a larger development, Smith and Benkler accelerate their take-up by others over the longer term, if Smith’s success is anything to go by. To begin at the beginning: when Smith introduces on the first page of the Wealth of Nations the “division of labor” as the new best hope of “the productive powers of labor,” Benkler’s opens with “the networked information environment” which represents the evolution of “liberal markets and liberal democracies” that have prevailed since Smith’s day (p. 1). To stay with Benkler’s key term, the networked information environment brings to the fore what is most valuable and what might otherwise be overlooked in “the Internet Revolution” (p. 1). At a time when, as he rightly points out, academics are dismissing such revolutionary talk as “positively naïve,” Benkler compresses into a triple-decker phrase like networked information environment the pervasive and encompassing flow of information through our lives and work, whether in call-centres or college campuses. But if Benkler had left it at that, we would have little that was not already well known and often stated. Instead, he follow this initial portmanteau of a phrase with, in quick succession, the new terms of this revolution, marked by “cooperative nonmarket production” (p. 2), “decentralized individual action” (p. 3), “nonproprietary strategies” (p. 4), “large-scale cooperative efforts” (p. 5), and so on. Recombinant possibilities soon emerge, with the likes of “networked information economy” (p. 3), “radically distributed nonmarket mechanisms” (ibid.), and “nonmarket, nonpropriety production” (p. 106). Each of Benkler’s phrases has its own way of rewriting one or more of Smith’s basic economic principles, whether one thinks of Smith’s sense of market, exchange value, self-interest, nation, or the division of labor.1 Benkler’s forceful linguistic turn makes him a strong candidate for what the late philosopher Richard Rorty identified as the transformative poet. Benkler makes no pretense to being a poet, but he is certainly a writer capable of generating “increasingly useful metaphors,” in Rorty’s term, who thus changes how the world is viewed and read (1989, p. 9). Benkler does appear to have an inexhaustible ability, again in Rorty’s seeming simplification of things “to redescribe lots and lots of things in new ways,” leading to “a pattern of linguistic behavior which will tempt the rising generation to adopt it” (pp. 7, 9). For Rorty, there is no greater intellectual or poetic power than this particular knack; the “talent for speaking differently, rather than arguing well, is the chief instrument of cultural change” (ibid.). Now n addition to speaking differently, Benkler also argue these cultural changes, and exceptionally well, to my way of thinking. He makes fine distinctions, sets up sensible categories, and marshals myriad on-the-ground instances to substantiate them, from Free High School Science Texts in South Africa (p. 101) to NASA’s use of the public to mark crater maps and undertake other scientific work (p. 69). Yet this particular talent for naming what these various projects have in common contributes, in its own way, to “an increasingly robust ethic of open sharing,” as Benkler names what many of us hope will indeed carry the spirit of the age (p. 7). By naming this economic model, if only in the negative terms, as both nonmarket and nonproprietary, Benkler makes it clear that the creation and distribution, for example, of free software code is not simply a circumvention or aberration in what is software’s rightful market.2 Rather, open source software represents a highly productive way for people to work together toward a public good. And while Benkler allows that people work on developing open source software because it provides people with access to what has become one of our basic communication systems, he also holds that it is about more than an ethics of openness. It is also about efficiency and productivity, those two critical wealth factors. Benkler very clearly sets out how a cooperative approaches are contributing to “the greatest improvement in the productive powers of labor” since the division of labor, to borrow from the opening from Adam Smith’s first chapter (2005, p. 5). By demonstrating the effectiveness of cooperative ventures, such as open source software and Wikipedia, Benkler undermines what might otherwise have seemed, at the close of the twentieth century, to be the ubiquitous triumph of the market. In the context of Policy Futures for Education, it makes sense to ask what the new terms of this alternative economy mean for the schools. When Benkler writes of the 1 Part of the power of a compound concept like networked information environment is how each terms shares equally in the idea and any one of the three terms can come to the fore, while the other two proximate terms can be hyphenated (i.e., networked-information environment; networked information- environment). 2 The refusal to hyphenate non in nonmarket and tying it to nonproprietary suggests that this negation is already commonplace. Internet’s democratic spirit – in terms of how the “network allows all citizens to change their relationship to the public sphere” as “creators and primary subjects” – he could as easily be addressing what the public schools have long promised, if not always delivered (p. 272). This overlap is nowhere more clearly at issue than with the educational challenge posed by Wikipedia. Benkler regards this multilingual free encyclopedia, not surprisingly, as a leading instance of an “open, peer-produced model,” and “one of the most successful collaborative enterprises that has developed in the first five years of the twenty-first century” (pp. 71, 70). And yet Wikipedia is not like anything taking place in the schools today. It is the exact opposite. Ask yourself, as I have more than once in the face of Wikipedia’s heart-felt learning, what in today’s schools can be said to really prepare students to collaborate anonymously, without credit or deadlines, on a drop-in basis, at the risk of being over-written and vigorously attacked by equally anonymous strangers, as they press together collectively in the name of a “neutral point of view” (as Wikipedia puts it), while being governed by a loosely organized (and enforced) series of principles having to do with verification and structure? Wikipedia demonstrates what a life of learning outside of school, for the sake of learning, can be mean. It is a demonstration for the schools that continues to grow daily on a global scale and in a remarkably organic way. For all of its shortcomings, Wikipedia serves for most people as the primary educational of gateway into this networked information environment. That this open and vibrant model of learning is so removed from the everyday world of schooling surely has implications for the policy futures for education. I am not suggesting, however, that Benkler has fallen short in addressing the educational implications in the Wealth of Networks. He is above reproach on this count. He has done more than enough by pausing for a moment and offering a brilliantly sweeping educational vision based on “the possibility that teachers and educators can collaborate, both locally and globally, on a platform model like Wikipedia, to coauthor learning objects, teaching modules, and more ambitiously, textbooks that could then be widely accessed by local teachers” (p. 315). It seems only fair to say that the onus for pursuing this book’s educational implications falls on those who profess education for a living, at least insofar as they are persuaded by this book.